


Can't Start a Fire Without a Spark

by Nerdy_fangirl_57



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha Scott McCall, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Stiles, Emissary in Training Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Stiles, Love Confessions, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Mates, Post-Nogitsune, Protective Derek, Scott is a Bad Friend, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Has Nightmares, Stiles Stilinski & Jackson Whittemore Friendship, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-08 08:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12860574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdy_fangirl_57/pseuds/Nerdy_fangirl_57
Summary: After the whole ordeal with the nogitsune Stiles struggles with proving to himself that he can be good again. He starts learning to control his spark in hopes that he could be helpful to the pack once he manages to channel it's power. Everyone thinks it's a great idea and are willing to help him anyway they can, but Scott, Scott doesn't see the point in it.It's not like Stiles' tiny spark could ever be powerful enough to be an actual asset to the pack.Stiles just wants a chance to prove himself.





	Can't Start a Fire Without a Spark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [138andcounting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/138andcounting/gifts).
  * Translation into Español available: [Can't start a fire without a spark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13752627) by [sterekreign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterekreign/pseuds/sterekreign)



> For the prompt given to me by 138andcounting:
> 
> I want something that has Scott being the only one who's doubting Stiles' abilities, and everyone else is like, "No, Scott, you're an idiot." but he still doesn't listen and he tries to "test" Stiles and hurts him in the process, and Lydia and Erica are there to scare him straight. The poly thing Scott, Isaac and Allison have going on is just because I find the aspect sort of cute, but you don't really need to include it. Uh.. have fun with it, and you do you, and you can use more characters than I mentioned, I just want those to be mentioned in some way.
> 
> Thank you for the wonderful prompt I hope this story is to your liking :)

After the nogitsune Stiles wasn’t the same anymore. He didn’t trust himself or his memory and everyone seemed like they were walking on eggshells around him.  
  
Stiles knew they didn’t mean it, they were just worried and didn’t want to remind him about the catastrophic event.  
  
But that was just it! It did happen and no one is talking about it, they just swept it under the rug and Stiles can’t stand it because people died because of him and no one is _saying anything_.  
  
They can act like it never happened all they want but it did happen and it’s not like he can ever forget it happened because his mind just loves to plague his dreams with never-ending nightmares about how it felt to have no control over himself, how it felt to discover that the monster they were after was him, how it felt to hurt the people he cared about and feel nothing.  
  
Everyone can pretend like they forgot it happened, but he never will.  
  
After a few weeks of absolute misery Stiles decides to do something about all this. He can’t just go about his day in fear and confusion and self hatred, he had to do something with himself. Something useful.  
  
That’s when he goes to Deaton.  
  
He remembers what Deaton said to him a long time ago, that he was a spark. He found it strange at the time but never questioned it because Deaton is the epitome of strange but now he wondered if it meant more than what he originally thought.

Stiles always found it weird how he and the nogitsune separated, the nogitsune didn't have much to gain considering the only reason the pack hadn't killed it yet was because they didn't want to hurt Stiles so why would it do that?  
  
Stiles didn’t leave Deaton’s clinic until late at night. He spent the entire day talking with Deaton and asking questions and researching and trying to understand what he was telling him.  
  
Apparently a spark is a general term for magic user, anyone who could use magic.  
  
Deaton explained that he knew Stiles was a spark when he managed to control the mountain ash but since that was considered one of the easiest forms of magic he thought Stiles was simply a low level spark.  
  
It wasn’t until Stiles separated himself from the nogitsune that he realized he had underestimated Stiles’ power.  
  
He still wasn’t sure how powerful Stiles’ spark was or what type of magic Stiles was capable of but with some training he was sure they would be able to figure it out with time.  
  
So that’s how Stiles started training in the woods with Deaton on a daily basis.  
  
It didn’t take long for them to realize Stiles’ magic was closely connected with the nemeton and that he had all the makings to become a pack emissary.  
  
Stiles couldn’t have been more excited with the news. Emissaries, or natural emissaries as Deaton called them, were rare and an incredible asset to packs.  
  
They were linked with the land around them and were seen as so valuable to packs that sometimes only the pack’s alpha would know who the emissary was to avoid making them a potential target.  
  
The excitement promptly died when he told Scott the news.  
  
“Stiles, that’s great and all, but, try not to make it a bigger deal than it is okay? I mean, yeah, you’re an emissary and that’s cool but we don’t need another target on our backs. I’m a true alpha, Lydia’s a banshee, Jackson’s a kanima, Allison is a hunter in a wolf pack, Kira’s a kitsune, and Malia is a werecoyote. We’re a big enough target as it is, if word spreads that you’re an emissary it’ll just mean more trouble for us, especially since you can hardly protect yourself as it is. We don’t need that.”  
  
Stiles tried to make sense of the words coming from Scott’s mouth. “But I can help Scott, I know I haven’t been much help so far but now I have magic and I can control it pretty well now. Deaton and I have been training for weeks and he says I’m improving a bunch and that maybe with some more practice I can be doing magic as complicated as summonings!”  
  
“I’m sure you will be Stiles, but, like I said, we don’t need anymore rare supernatural creatures in the pack. Don’t let this whole magic thing make you believe you’re more powerful than you really are.”  
  
The words stung but Stiles tried to smile anyway, “Yeah… okay Scott.”  
  
He’ll just have to train harder and prove to Scott that he can be an important part of the pack. He can prove he’s good.

 

* * *

  
Derek was not expecting to be thrown into a tree while on his afternoon run with the pack by a huge ball of purple fire.  
  
“Oh fuck! Derek are you okay? I’m so sorry! I was in the middle of doing the meditation exercises that Deaton taught me and I felt a sudden pulse of power around me and I never felt that before so I panicked and oh god I’m so fucking sorry.”  
  
“Wait,” Erica said before Derek could answer, “you made that huge ass purple fireball that knocked Derek into that tree?”  
  
“Uhh, yeah?”  
  
Erica’s face lit up with glee. “That’s so fucking cool! How’d you do that?!”  
  
Stiles looked taken aback by the praise. “It’s really nothing, I’m not even that good with magic anyway.”  
  
Derek scoffed as he stood up, “Say that to the guy you knocked into a tree.”  
  
“Yeah,” Stiles said with a wince, “sorry about that.”  
  
“Don’t apologize.” Derek said with an eye roll, “It was… impressive.”  
  
Stiles’ face went slack, like he couldn’t believe his ears. “Really? You think- you think that’s impressive?”  
  
“Stiles. Believe it or not it’s not normal for a ball of fire to be powerful enough to throw an alpha werewolf against a tree that was 20 feet away. Not to mention I was running so your aim had to be impeccable in order to actually hit me.”  
  
“Yeah!” Erica exclaimed, “That’s not something just anyone can do Stiles, it’s awesome!”  
  
“It was pretty cool.” Boyd said.  
  
Isaac smirked. “Plus seeing Derek fly into a tree because of a purple ball of flames was hilarious.”  
  
Derek glared but there was no heat in it. The pack laughed and he saw Stiles crack a small smile from the corner of his eye.  
  
It’s been far too long since Derek last saw Stiles smile. It’s unnerving to think that the spastic kid with the sarcastic tongue that was always making dog jokes could become so miserable and dull.  
  
Stiles was always buzzing with energy but now it’s like he’s been watered down with sorrow and guilt.  
  
Derek knows how that feels.  
  
From then on Derek tries his best to bump into Stiles on his daily runs. Sometimes he'd find Stiles training with Deaton, other times Stiles was training on his own. The pack accompanied him most of the time but there were a few instances where it was just him.  
  
The encounters never lasted very long, a few minutes at most. But Derek could tell it was helping Stiles in a weird way.  
  
Derek wondered why Stiles always seemed so starved for attention. The McCall pack was a lot bigger than his so surely they’ve been supporting him through everything after the nogitsune right?  
  
Just thinking about what happened made Derek’s wolf want to whine.  
  
The memory of Stiles, so bright and full of life, possessed by that demon with Chris holding him at gunpoint ready to pull the trigger if necessary was one of the most terrifying experiences of Derek’s life.  
  
The mere thought of someone killing Stiles like that, like he was a monster that had to be put down, it sent all his instincts on fire.  
  
He knew that what was standing in front of the gun wasn’t Stiles, that it was the monster that was responsible for all those deaths, but Stiles was still in there.  
  
Stiles was trapped inside of his own body with no control over anything the nogitsune was doing and Chris Argent was going to kill not just the nogitsune but Stiles too and in that moment Derek felt panicked and lost and completely useless.  
  
Derek had lost paige, lost his family, even lost himself for a long time, but somehow he knew that if he lost Stiles the small threads holding him together would break.  
  
He doesn’t know why, or, better put, he doesn’t want to _think_ about why.  
  
Because if he does he’ll have no choice but to acknowledge what he’s tried so hard to ignore.  
  
Derek shifts into his wolf form and goes on a run through the preserve. The sun is setting but he knows there’s no chance of him sleeping any time soon with all the thoughts crowding his head.  
  
Running always helped clear his mind. The sounds of the preserve drowning out his thoughts, the ache in his limbs overpowering the tightness in his chest, the focus of simply running blocking out his feeling of uselessness.  
  
He’s not sure for how long he’s been sprinting through the trees but when he finally slows to catch his breath the moon is hung high in the sky.  
  
Derek lets the ache in his limbs wash over him as the gentle night breeze blows through his fur. He stays there, completely still, anchoring himself to the present instead of focusing on the thoughts trying to claw their way through his mind.  
  
Then he hears it, the soft crunching of leaves being stepped on.  
  
Derek goes toward the sound, lowering himself to a crouch once he knows he’s near. He peaks through the leaves of the bush he is hiding behind only to see Stiles wearing nothing but his pajamas sitting in the center of the large stump that is the nemeton.  
  
Derek slowly rises and makes his way towards Stiles, still in his wolf form. When Stiles turns his head to look at the approaching wolf Derek notices that his eyes are red rimmed from crying.  
  
The sight causes a small whine to leave his throat without permission.  
  
Stiles huffs, “It’s alright sourwolf, nothing to worry about, just a stupid nightmare.”  
  
Judging from the bags under Stiles’ eyes it certainly wasn’t the only nightmare he’s had recently. Derek’s noticed them whenever he’d run into Stiles during his afternoon runs but he’s never figured out how to bring it up.  
  
Now that he was in his wolf form he didn’t have to bring it up and that’s perfectly fine with him as he jumped on top of the unnaturally large stump and settled his head on Stiles’ lap.  
  
To say that Stiles was shocked would be an understatement but Derek wasn’t the best with words and this seemed like the best option so he didn't budge.  
  
It takes him a minute but eventually Stiles starts petting Derek’s fur and the smell of grief slowly turns into one of contentedness.  
  
Suddenly, Stiles chuckles softly, “You’re enjoying this aren’t you sourwolf?”  
  
For a second Derek doesn’t understand what he means until he realizes his tail is wagging. He considers stopping his tail but ultimately decides against it. Besides, it feels good.  
  
“Hey, Derek?” Stiles said after a while.  
  
Derek lifted his head to look at Stiles to show he was listening.  
  
The corners of Stiles’ lips tugged up into a soft smile. “Thanks.”  
  
Derek wasn’t sure how to respond, smiling wasn’t really much of an option when he was in his wolf form, so he presses his nose to Stiles’ cheek.  
  
“You’re such a softie.” Stiles says with a blinding smile.  
  
Derek just glares at him before laying his head on Stiles’ lap again.

 

* * *

  
It’s been a long time since the small town of Beacon Hills was the target of some blood thirsty monster. So long in fact that Stiles thought that maybe things were starting to go back to normal, or at least, as normal as it can get in Beacon Hills.  
  
He should have known better.  
  
Everything was going so well. He was learning so many new things during his training with Deaton and it didn’t feel like everyone was tip toeing around him anymore.  
  
Lydia would force him to go on shopping sprees with her so he could carry her bags, Kira would talk with him for hours about her katanas and other cool weapons her mom had, Allison would call him sometimes to ask about how his training with Deaton was going, Malia would ask him a million questions about why she couldn’t just break someone’s leg if they were annoying her, and surprisingly him and Jackson would even hang out sometimes.  
  
Stiles never would have thought in a thousand years that him and Jackson would become friends but, they did, and good ones at that.  
  
They still snark at each other obviously but it was more like friendly teasing than anything else.  
  
Jackson was the only person who truly understood what Stiles felt after the nogitsune. He knew what it was like to not be in control of his own actions and to hurt people he cared about against his will.  
  
A lot of their time together was spent watching old movies and talking about nothing while getting drunk. It was nice. Not having to think about anything for a while.  
  
It was strange. A few months ago they could hardly stand each other yet now Stiles was hanging out more with Jackson than with Scott.  
  
Well… Stiles spends more time hanging out with anyone than with Scott. They haven’t really seen each other much lately.  
  
He probably spends more time with Derek in one day than he does with Scott in an entire week. Which is weird considering how Stiles was pretty sure Derek hated him when they first met.  
  
It’s so strange thinking that in a relatively short time span he and Derek went from practically hating in each other to being, kind of, sort of, friends… ish.  
  
Stiles doesn’t even know how to explain their relationship. It’s not like him and Jackson where they tease and banter while chilling on a coach eating all the food in sight.  
  
Of course him and Derek still tease and banter a lot but there’s just something… _more,_  something Stiles can’t quite grasp.  
  
But enough about Derek Hale and his confusingly perfect face. Point is, him and Scott haven’t been talking much. Or at all.  
  
Stiles didn’t even know there was a new baddie in town until Lydia called him asking why he wasn’t at Allison’s house for the pack meeting yet.  
  
When Stiles arrived the pack meeting had just started and Scott didn’t even look at him before he started explaining what was going on.  
  
Apparently there’s been numerous cases of people mysteriously going into comas and dying just days after being hospitalized. According to Melissa five people have died in the past week and there are still three more comatose victims.  
  
Scott already contacted Deaton about it but he can’t think of any supernatural creature that causes people to go into comas.  
  
“Have you called Derek?” Stiles asks, “Maybe he can help us figure out what it is.”  
  
Scott scrunches up his nose like he smelled something foul. “How would Derek help?”  
  
“Well I mean he is the only person we know that was raised in the world of the supernatural and the Hale Pack used to be one of the largest and most respected packs in North America so maybe he knows something about it.”  
  
Scott rolls his eyes, “If it’s not in the bestiary then what makes you think Derek would know?”  
  
“The Argents are from France,” Stiles explained, “the bestiary only has supernatural creatures seen in Europe. Maybe this monster isn’t found in Europe like the others. The Hales have been in North America for generations upon generations, they would know more about supernatural creatures in the Americas than the Argents.”  
  
“I still don’t think we should tell Derek, there’s no reason to get him and his pack involved.” Scott said stubbornly.  
  
“So you’re saying you’re not going to tell him something is wrong _period_? Even if they can’t help us they need to know what’s going on. This is Hale territory, we can’t just hunt down a monster and not tell them that there’s a threat Scott.”  
  
“Stiles,” Scott growls out, “I know this is hard to believe but you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore okay? You can go and practice your magic tricks in the woods all you want but I’m the alpha of this pack and I say we’re not telling Derek anything.”  
  
“What the fuck is your damage McCall?” Jackson says as he steps in front of Stiles. “Get your head out of your ass, of course we have to tell Derek about this, who else is going to have our backs when we go finally find this thing? Besides, you're obviously going to tell your boyfriend what's going on and he's going to tell Derek either way. Now can you stop being a bitch about Hale so we can get back to finding out what we’re dealing with here?”  
  
After that everyone goes back to discussing a plan to figure out what supernatural creature they’re facing and how to stop it from causing any more havoc.  
  
The following night Stiles found himself sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the side of Lydia’s bed with a dozen different tabs opened on his laptop and a bazillion papers scattered around him.  
  
“You find anything yet Lyds?” he asked while opening another tab on his screen.  
  
“Nothing yet. You?”  
  
Stiles shakes his head, “Nope. Can’t find anything in here about a creature that can cause you to go unconscious and then kill you.”  
  
Lydia hums, thinking. “What if we’re going about this all wrong?”  
  
Stiles stops typing and looks at her. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean what if this thing doesn’t make you go into a coma? What if that’s just a side affect of it?”  
  
“Lydia you’re a genius!”  
  
Her red lips tug up into a self satisfied smirk. “I know.”  
  
It takes nearly 3 hours but eventually, Stiles finally stumbles across something promising. The dreadling.  
  
The dreadling is a creature that started making an appearance back in the early 1400s in North America. It feeds off people’s insecurities and fears, usually targeting rejects and outcasts.  
  
Once it has set its sights on a target it plants images in their head of their greatest fear and the more powerful the person’s fear becomes the more the dreadling feeds until eventually the victim becomes so deprived of energy that they become comatous.  
  
Only the dreadling doesn’t stop there. It keeps feeding on the victim until so much energy has been sucked out of their body that they aren’t able to function anymore and die.  
  
There isn’t any information about how dreadlings look like but the best he could find is an old folk song depicting them as washed out shadows.  
  
“Well now that we’ve found our monster I think it’s time for some much needed beauty sleep.” Lydia said as she stretched out her sore muscles from sitting for so long. “You staying the night?”  
  
“No, I’m good.” Stiles said as he put his laptop away. “I’m just gonna head home.”  
  
“You sure? It’s almost 4 in the morning.”  
  
Stiles yawned before answering. “Yeah, I’m sure. Night Lyds.”  
  
“Goodnight Stiles. Don’t do anything stupid.”  
  
Stiles smirked. “Wouldn’t think of it.”  
  
The drive home was exhausting and Stiles regretted not taking Lydia up on her offer more than once as he struggled to keep his eyes open. But he wakes up shouting almost every single night and he can't let Lydia find out about it.  
  
Everyone was finally starting to act normal around him again, he couldn’t let them know that he wasn’t as fine as he said he was.

 

* * *

  
After he and Lydia found all they possibly could on dreadlings they present the information to the rest of the pack in the following pack meeting at Allison’s.  
  
Scott then gives each member of the pack an assignment to aid the hunt for the dreadling.  
  
Each member besides Stiles.  
  
Stiles doesn’t say anything but everyone can sense the tension in the air. The pack meeting continues as normal and eventually comes to an end not much later.  
  
When they all start trickling out of Allison’s house Stiles goes over to where Scott was currently talking to Allison in the kitchen.  
  
“Ally can I talk with Scott for a sec?”  
  
Scott looks annoyed with his interruption but Allison doesn’t seem to mind.  
  
“Yeah Stiles, no problem.” she said before turning her attention back to Scott. “I’ll be upstairs.”  
  
Once she’s out of hearing distance Stiles speaks his mind. “How come you didn’t give me anything to do?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“During the meeting. You gave everyone a task except me. Why?”  
  
Scott looks at him like he has two heads. “Because you’ve already done everything you had to do. You’re the researcher Stiles, you get information, there’s nothing left for you to do.”  
  
“But you gave Lydia something else to do and she’s also a researcher so why am I different?”  
  
Scott gives him that stupid sympathetic look and Stiles wants to scream. “Stiles, Lydia is a banshee, you’re just… a human.”  
  
“That’s the whole point Scott! I’m not just a human, not anymore. I can do things now Scott, I can actually help now, why won’t you let me be useful?”  
  
“Stiles!” Scott growled, “Just because you can make little fireballs all of a sudden doesn’t mean you can help. I know you think you can do a bunch of things now but you can’t. You’re still human, you’re still the weak link. I’m just making sure whatever we’re dealing with doesn’t realize that, I’m trying to _help_ you!”  
  
Stiles can’t help the surge of anger he feels. Scott doesn’t know what he’s capable of. Scott hasn’t even _looked_ at him in days, how would he know what Stiles can and can’t do?  
  
He doesn’t.  
  
“Scott I can do more than that! Ask Deaton, he knows how much stronger I’ve gotten with the training. Just… just let me help Scott.”  
  
“Stiles why do you even want to help? You’ve never had a problem with being the research guy in the pack before why are you suddenly making this such a big deal?” Scott asked, exasperated.  
  
Stiles opens his mouth to answer but snaps it shut before any words could escape.  
  
It’s not that Stiles had a problem being the research guy, it was that now Scott is making sure that’s the only thing he does. Before the nogitsune Scott never limited him to just research, he let Stiles help in anyway he could like coming up with plans and battle strategies.  
  
Now Scott is very vocal about Stiles just being the research guy and Stiles knows it’s because of what happened with the nogitsune.  
  
Stiles can’t really blame Scott for being wary around him. Allison almost died because of him, Scott almost died because of him, the entire _pack_ suffered because of him…  
  
But he’s not like that anymore! He wouldn’t do that, he’d never do that, the only reason he did do that was because he was possessed by a demonic spirit! He’s better now, he’s… he’s himself again… right?  
  
So why is Scott treating him differently? The rest of the pack treat him more or less the same, sure they’re careful to not bring up anything that might allude to what happened which annoys him to no end but they’re getting better. So, why is Scott still so cautious around him?  
  
“I just…” Stiles started, “I want you to trust me again.”  
  
Scott’s eyes widened at Stiles’ words before giving him that damn kicked puppy look. “I do trust you.”  
  
“Really?” Stiles says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “So you haven’t been purposefully limiting my participation in the mission because you think I’ll go void again?”  
  
“No! That’s not why at all Stiles! It’s just, well, you’re not like the rest of us, you can get seriously hurt Stiles. I never really acted on it before the nogitsune but you’re the most vulnerable person in the pack, if you hadn’t realized that the bite would kill the nogitsune then you would have died and the nogitsune would have killed the rest of us.”  
  
Stiles groaned in frustration. “Exactly Scott! I figured it out, I helped, I did something good but you’re treating me like I can revert back into the nogitsune at any minute! Jackson was the kanima but you don’t treat him any differently than any other pack member, why am I any different?”  
  
“Jackson didn’t know what he was doing Stiles, Gerard was controlling him, Jackson didn’t even know that he was a kanima. It’s not the same.”  
  
Stiles is going to fucking scream. “It’s exactly the same! I didn’t know what I was doing, the nogitsune was controlling me, I didn’t even know I was the nogitsune until Derek figured it out. It’s the same fucking thing! I’m _not_ the nogitsune Scott, I never was!”  
  
Scott gave him one of those stupid sympathetic looks and Stiles wants to punch something. “Stiles, three people opened up their minds. You, me, and Allison we all could have been victim to the nogitsune. It must have chosen you for a reason.”  
  
“So… you think it chose me because… I’m, what, evil or something?”  
  
“No, no no of course not. It’s just… well it didn’t choose Allison, so…”  
  
Stiles tries to take calming breaths. He can feel the panic rising within him. He’s not a bad person, he’s not evil, he’s not the nogitsune, he wouldn’t hurt the people he cares about, that’s not who he is.  
  
Scott doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he’s just, he’s just being Scott! Scott doesn’t… doesn’t know what he’s talking about.  
  
“Scott,” Stiles sighed, getting tired of this endless back and forth that doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, “just give me a chance. One chance. Can you, can you just let me have that? Let me prove myself or whatever.”  
  
Stiles was drained. He wants this pointless conversation to be over and to go back home and sleep on his bed and pray to any deity out there to let him sleep in peace, without any nightmares that make him wake up screaming.  
  
Scott must have seen the fatigue in his eyes because, after a short hesitation, he said “Okay.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You obviously feel very strongly about this so, okay. I’ll give you something else to do. You said you’ve gotten pretty good at magic right?”  
  
“Uh, y-yeah, yeah I have.”  
  
Scott nods, coming to a decision. “Maybe Deaton has a spell in one of his books that can help us see the future or something so we know how the creature attacks.”  
  
Now it’s Stiles’ turn to hesitate. “I'm not so sure about that. Deaton says any spells having to do with the subject of seeing different time periods be it past or future are very draining and need a lot of preparation.”  
  
Scott sighs heavily, clearly frustrated. “Then what do you want me to do Stiles? It’s not like you have a long list of abilities that are useful to the pack for me to choose from. If you can’t do that level of magic yet then why bring up your ‘magical abilities’ anyway?”  
  
He’s not going to lie, Scott has a point, he’s never really been much use for the pack to begin with. He's always been a burden for everyone even when he tries his best not to be and everyone knew it.  
  
Doesn’t make the words hurt any less though.  
  
But now he has a chance to actually help the pack with something, to do something useful. Deaton said those spells were draining, not that Stiles couldn’t do them.  
  
He has to try.  
  
“It’s okay, I can do it. If that’s what’ll help the pack, I’ll do it.”  
  
“Alright. Let’s keep this between us though, I don’t want the rest of the pack to worry about you.”  
  
Stiles didn’t know why the pack would worry about him but he nodded at Scott’s condition anyway. Besides, if it turns out he can’t do it, at least the pack won’t be aware of his failure.  
  
Just Scott.  
  
Somehow, that terrifies Stiles even more.

 

* * *

 

When Scott finds a spell in one of Deaton’s books that makes you see into the future he sends Stiles a picture of the page with all the instructions.

  
It takes Stiles a while to decipher the latin words but he eventually has everything within a couple of days. He has no idea how Scott found the spell without any help since Lydia is the only one who can read latin fluently in the pack.  
  
Lydia taught Stiles the basics and he can read it but it takes him a while to fully understand what the words say.  
  
When Stiles and Scott finally go to the preserve to perform the spell Stiles can’t help but feel nervous.  
  
He’s never done anything this powerful with Deaton and the last thing he wants to do is make Scott think he’s useless to the pack again.  
  
Stiles knows that he was always a drawback for the pack and that it would probably be better for everyone if he just stopped trying to help but now it’s different.  
  
Now he can do magic and actually be some good for the pack.  
  
He just needs to prove himself to Scott first.  
  
Once everything is set in place and the runes are drawn on the stump of the nemeton Stiles goes to stand directly in the middle of the once ginormous tree.  
  
He looks at around him one more time to make sure that the runes are in the correct place and order before taking a deep breath and reciting the spell.  
  
Stiles focuses on the magic pulsing through his veins, the slight feeling of electricity between his fingertips as he says the incantation.  
  
The runes light up in a white light and he can feel the magical energy increasing all around him.  
  
He can feel the magical currents like a physical force as he lets the words of the ancient language gracefully exit his tongue.  
  
The wind picks up then, starting off as a gentle breeze and gradually getting stronger as he continues the incantation until it feels like Stiles is inside a small tornado.  
  
The wind is strong and violent but Stiles doesn’t move his stance in the slightest. His eyes flutter closed as he focuses all his energy into enunciating the spell correctly.  
  
He can’t screw up.  
  
Stiles raises his voice so it can be heard above the sound of the rustling wind and as he shouts the last phrase of the spell the wind suddenly disperses, a ring of blue fire circling the nemeton in it’s place.  
  
He keeps his eyes shut tight as he silently breathes, trying to regain his normal heart rate. The heat of the surrounding fire feels like a hum under his skin.  
  
Images slowly flash through his mind, blurry and unfocused. However, the stronger the burn on the flames the faster and clearer the images get.  
  
He sees the nemeton, standing proudly long before it was cut down to only a stump. He can vaguely make out the outline of countless werewolves in their beta shifts scattered all around the mighty tree.  
  
Then the soft flicker of the flames turns into a burning roar biting at his skin and everything changes.  
  
The magnificent tree that was the nemeton vanishes, replaced by the hollow stump that it is today and the numerous werewolves he saw in the last image are replaced by bloodthirsty fangs and vicious claws tearing at each other.  
  
The groundbreaking roars and growls pound against Stiles’ skull as the unmistakable sound of gunshots join the cacophony of noises, splattering more blood onto the forest grass.  
  
Just as Stiles thinks that he can’t take the smell of blood for a second longer, when the copper and foul smell of the thick crimson has crammed itself so far up Stiles’ nose that he doubts he’ll ever stop smelling it, it changes again.  
  
This time fire penetrates his nose.  
  
But this is not the warm tickle of fire he has gotten used to, no, this fire burns his throat with how much ash it sheds as it burns with the purpose to destroy all in it’s path.  
  
He can barely see anything past the large flames. The fire has consumed everything, flames as tall as walls kicking the smoke onto his face, blinding him.  
  
But he can hear the screams. The screams of agony, the screams of absolute pain and torture, the screams of nightmares.  
  
There are sobs as well, angry, desperate sobs that do nothing but add onto the painful ache in Stiles' head. The cries of children with their voices sore and barely able to produce a sound against the flames only make it worst.  
  
Stiles can’t focus anymore, the relentless hammering in his skull doing a poor job distracting him from the screams and roars and gunshot and cries that seem to be getting louder by the second.  
  
Still he can’t back out now, he has to search for something that can help the pack bring down the dreadling.  
  
So he keeps pushing. Let’s the never ending flood of everything continue.  
  
Before long everything is flashing before his eyes so quickly he can’t make sense of it, his senses becoming overloaded with information.  
  
The images begin to bleed into one continuous stream of blurry colors.  
  
The multiple agonizing screams turning into one unyielding cry.  
  
The smell of blood and burning flesh becoming imprinted in his nostrils.  
  
The constant pounding of his head turning into an unwavering pressure.  
  
He can’t make sense of anything, he can’t slow it down, he can’t make it _stop_.  
  
Stiles feels the strange sensation of liquid running down his nose but he barely notices it against the burning sensation on his skin, the sounds of war and despair in his ears, the barrage of violence flashing in front of his eyes, the smell of blood so potent he can practically taste it on his tongue.  
  
He wants it to stop, he wants everything to stop, he needs it to stop but it isn’t and he just can’t make it fucking _stop_!  
  
That’s when he hears a roar, an alpha’s roar like none of the others blaring into his ears, _his_ alpha’s roar.  
  
And everything goes black.

 

* * *

  
There’s something wrong.  
  
Very wrong.  
  
Derek doesn’t know what it is but his claws are itching to extend and his fangs are just a few milliseconds away from dropping and he feels restless and agitated and simply _wrong_.  
  
It’s been slowly building up throughout the past hour and the betas are starting to notice.  
  
As always, Erica’s the first to bring it up. “Hey you okay there boss? You look like you’re ready to go on a murder spree.”  
  
“Yeah it’s putting me on edge.” Isaac says, concern pinching his features.  
  
Derek can’t answer, fearing that if he opens his mouth the only sound he’ll be able to produce is a growl.  
  
The unexpected but grounding feeling of Boyd’s hand lightly placed on his shoulder alleviates a part of the tension. A very small part, but a part nonetheless. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Just as Derek takes a calming breath to answer, something in him snaps and he can't stop himself from yelling, “Stiles!” before he’s out the fucking door in full shift sprinting through the preserve without looking back.  
  
He can hear the betas following him from behind in their beta shifts but Derek doesn’t slow down to make it easier for them to follow. The only thing on his mind is finding Stiles.  
  
Derek has no idea what’s wrong or what could possibly be happening but one thing’s for sure and it’s that he needs to find the spastic teen as fast as possible because if he doesn’t he won’t be able to fucking breathe.  
  
His paws carry him to the nemeton and what he sees is enough to make him see red.  
  
Stiles is standing on the center of the nemeton with blue flames tall enough to cover everything from Stiles’ chest down surrounding the tree in a complete circle.  
  
But that’s not what makes Derek want to rip someone’s throat out.  
  
What makes Derek want to rip someone’s throat out is that Stiles is paler than a freaking ghost and there are tears streaming down his cheeks with no sign of stopping any time soon and his lips are trembling as he mutters the word 'stop' over and over again and Derek is going to fucking _murder_ Scott McCall.  
  
Without so much as thinking twice about it Derek pounces and tackles Scott to the ground. He’s about to sink his teeth into Scott’s neck when Boyd pulls him back and restrains him.  
  
Derek can hear his betas talking to him but he can’t hear them over the adrenaline pulsing through his veins and his need to fight and attack and protect.  
  
It isn’t until he smells the distinct smell of blood in the air that he stops struggling against Boyd’s hold and sees blood trickling down Stiles' nose.  
  
He switches into his beta shift in an instant and lets out a deep and powerful roar that shakes tree branches and makes animals from miles away scatter.  
  
The blue flames extinguish, the white glow of the drawn runes fade, and Stiles collapses to the ground.  
  
Derek is by his side not a second later.  
  
He holds Stiles’ unconscious body to his chest and gently wipes away the hot tears from his cheeks. Despite being as pale as a sheet of paper Stiles’ body was boiling, no doubt due to being surrounded by such large flames for who knows how long.  
  
“What is wrong with all of you?!” Scott shouted, breaking the silence.  
  
Erica didn’t miss a beat in her response. “What’s wrong with _us_? More like what’s wrong with _you_! What the fuck was going on here?!”  
  
“Stiles was performing a spell to see into the future so we can know what to expect when we go up against the dreadling. You guys just busted in and ruined it!”  
  
“We busted in because Stiles was in pain!” Erica snapped, “How could you see your best friend like that and not fucking step in Scott?”  
  
Scott gritted his teeth in frustration. “He could have ended it any time! If he didn’t want to keep going he would have stopped doing the spell.”  
  
Now that made Derek snap his attention back to Scott, a ferocious growl escaping his throat.  
  
“Stiles was mumbling the word 'stop' like a fucking mantra and don’t you _dare_ tell me you didn’t hear it because we all know that’s a lie.”  
  
Scott opens his mouth again to answer but Derek cuts him off with another growl as he lets the red bleed into his eyes.  
  
“That’s enough.” Derek growls out while standing from his previous kneeling position with Stiles carried bridal style in his arms. “I’m taking Stiles to Deaton and if I see your face again I won’t hesitate to rip your vocal cords off with my claws.”  
  
Derek doesn’t wait for any kind of reply from Scott as he turns around and leaves, his betas right behind him.

 

* * *

 

The trip to Deaton’s wasn’t as helpful as Derek hoped it would be.

Boyd explained everything they knew to Deaton as he checked Stiles over but Deaton said that he didn’t have any spells to see into the future in any of his books so he had no idea what spell they were talking about.

It wasn’t until Isaac relayed in great detail what they saw of the spell, how the blue flames surrounded the nemeton, how the runes glowed with a white light, and how Stiles seemed to be trapped in his own head.

That’s when it clicked and Deaton realized which spell Stiles was doing. It wasn’t a spell to see into the future it was a spell to see into the past of whatever landmark it was being performed on, in this case, the nemeton.

It was an extremely complex spell that could go horribly wrong if the caster stays under its effects for too long.

“When is he going to wake up.” It’s the first thing Derek says since they arrived at the clinic. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Stiles though.

Deaton gives him a sympathetic look and Derek’s heart plummets. Deaton isn’t known for his sympathy.

“Stiles will be fine, Derek. He lost a lot of energy executing that spell so his body needs time to gain back its strength.”

Derek looked at Deaton then, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “When is he going to wake up.”

“About a week from now.”

Isaac’s eyes widen in shock. “A week?! But what about the dreadling? It feeds off people’s energy, right? Stiles is extremely weak and already in a coma-like state, doesn’t that make him, like, the perfect snack for that thing?”

Deaton hummed, pensive for a moment. “The dreadling seems to have a few people to feed on so I don’t think it’ll target Stiles. His energy is too low to really satisfy it. Either way, there should be someone watching over him at all times until he wakes up.”

Days pass and Derek has not left Stiles’ side for a second.

The others visit as much as they can but they usually can’t stay for more than a couple of hours. Derek promises to text all of them the moment Stiles starts showing signs of waking up.

Lydia makes sure to drop by at least once a day, usually accompanied by Jackson, to make sure Derek doesn’t ‘brood a hole through the wall’ as she loves to say.

Jackson doesn’t do much besides throw in a jab every now and then but Derek knows he’s worried about Stiles. Despite everything that went down for Jackson to become a werewolf, Derek doesn’t find himself regretting it, and it’s times like these when he wishes Jackson would have chosen to stay in Derek’s pack instead of going to Scott to follow Lydia.

He can’t be mad at Jackson though, he understands why he did it.

The betas visit all the time as well. He knows they’ve all grown fond of Stiles and it settles something in Derek’s chest to see his pack supporting each other.

Isaac has been feeling down since the whole ordeal. Allison and him had a big fight with Scott about everything and neither of them are really on speaking terms with the young alpha.

No one really is. When they told everyone the news Kira and Isaac had to take Jackson out of the room to calm down because he nearly ate Scott's head off.

A part of Derek feels bad for Isaac, he knows how much the 3 of them love each other and he hopes they’ll be able to work something out but at the same time there's a part of Derek that wants to rip Scott to pieces for the stunt he pulled.

If they had gotten there just a minute later then Stiles would have…

He shakes his head, ridding himself of those thoughts. He doesn’t want to go anyway near that train of thought.

Derek doesn’t think he’ll be able to let Stiles out of his sight ever again. Everyone tells him to go home and take a break from watching over Stiles and Derek can’t help but growl every time someone brings it up.

He’s not leaving Stiles alone. Especially when he’s so vulnerable.

The sheriff doesn’t seem to mind having him stay in Stiles’ bedroom while the boy recovers though, in fact the sheriff has told him how grateful he is for it on more than one occasion. He says he feels a sense of relief knowing that when he isn’t home there is someone watching over his son.

During the night Derek shifts into his wolf form and sleeps with his entire body curled around Stiles. It’s a protective position and Derek remembers when his mom would do the same thing to him and his siblings whenever they were scared or sick.

He wonders what would have happened if the fire had never taken place.

Derek’s sure Stiles would fit right along with his pack.

He can just see the way his mom’s eyes would sparkle with mischief while telling an eager Stiles all about his most embarrassing childhood moments. He can see the way Laura would make sexual innuendos at them whenever she got the chance. He can see the way his dad would teach Stiles everything he knew about gardening. He could see his brother showing Stiles the library they had at home and the two of them reading silently on the porch together.

Yeah… Stiles would have fit right in.

 

* * *

 

Stiles woke up feeling incredibly warm. He left like he’d fallen asleep next to a heater or something. A very comfy heater. A very comfy heater with fur? What the hell is he sleeping on?

Stiles blinked his blurry eyes open and turned his head only to come face to face with a very large black nose.

What the fuck?

As his still semi-not-there brain tries to process this the large animal moves in it’s sleep to lazily nuzzle Stiles’ neck, big black tail wagging softly.

Oh, it’s Derek.

Wait, what the fuck is Derek doing in his room cuddling him as a wolf?!

Stiles tries to remember how he could have possibly ended up in this predicament.

He remembers going into the preserve with Scott and doing that spell he found to try and see the future. He remembers seeing everything flash before his eyes too fast to really understand it and the screams and the smell of blood and smoke and how it all became too much and it wouldn’t stop until suddenly everything went black.

Did he pass out or something? How long was he out?

Beside him Derek started to stir in his sleep and a moment later the large wolf lifts its head and Stiles sees bright crimson eyes staring back at him.

“Hey sourwolf, miss me?” Stiles says teasingly and Derek lunges at him and starts sniffing and nuzzling every inch of his face, tail now wagging wildly as he yips happily.

Stiles wasn’t expecting that reaction but he simply huffs quietly in amusement before digging his fingers into Derek’s fur and giving him the best ear scratches ever.

They continue like that for a few minutes, soft chuckles and affectionate huffs filling Stiles' bedroom until suddenly Derek shifts back and kisses Stiles right on the lips before Stiles could process what happened.

Stiles is frozen in place.

He has his hands cupping Derek’s cheeks, a now very human and very _naked_ Derek’s cheek and Stiles can feel Derek’s body heat despite the blanket that separate them and Derek is literally right on top of him and Derek fucking Hale is _kissing_ him.

Stiles must have taken too long to respond because Derek pulls away.

“I’m sorry.” he said in a short breath. “I-I didn’t mean- I shouldn’t have- fuck!”

Derek looked like he wanted to be struck by lightening, his face screwed up in pain and Stiles didn’t need werewolf senses to see the shame coming off of Derek in waves.

Stiles scrambled to lift himself into a sitting position so that him and Derek were eye level with each other. “Hey, hey no. It’s okay big guy!”

“No it’s not. You just woke up from a week long coma and-”

“ _What_!?” Stiles yells, “I’ve been out of it for a week? How is that even- wait, have you been taking care of me the entire time or was it like a schedule type thing and you were just the lucky guy who witnessed my revival?”

“The others try to visit as often as they can but for the most part yeah, it- it was mostly me.”

Stiles felt his stomach do a weird swooping thing that it _definitely_ should not be doing right now. Not knowing how to handle his body’s reaction Stiles does the one thing he does best, lighten the mood.

“Aww sourwolf, you do care!”

His teasing doesn’t get its intended response because Derek’s face closes off, the previous softness in his features completely gone. “I do.”

“Huh?”

“Care.” Derek elaborates. “I do care.”

Stiles doesn’t know how else to respond to that than letting a soft “oh” pass his lips.

Neither of them says anything for a long moment. The air’s tense between them but Stiles isn’t sure how to break it.

Surprisingly Derek’s the one who break the silence. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles’ eyes widen in shock. “Wha- you’re sorry? For what?”

“For kissing you.”

Okay so Stiles has been struggling to come up with responses to Derek for a few moments now and it’s starting to seriously creep him out. He’s not used to being rendered speechless so many times in a row.

“You don’t really have to apologize for that, it was no big deal.” Stiles said wincing at the awkwardness of his own words. “Besides I, um, I liked it so… yeah, there’s… that.”

“You did?” Derek’s face stayed annoying neutral and his voice was laced with doubt but there was something in his eyes, a soft twinkle, that gave Stiles the hope that maybe…

“Yeah, I-I did.”Stiles stammered before forcing out his next words. “Do you think that we could, uh, try it again?”

Derek didn’t respond, his eyes roaming over every inch of Stiles’ face, searching for something. After a long drawn out pause Derek’s head gave the most miniscule nod Stiles had ever seen.

Stiles’ hand slowly raises to rest on Derek’s cheek, his thumb gently swooping across Derek’s cheek bone in the tenderest of touches. Stiles keeps his eyes locked with Derek’s as he leans closer. He could swear that the small twinkle in Derek's eyes grew brighter the closer they got.

Their lips met in a soft press of lips, gentle and cautious until Derek angled his head just so to deepen the kiss.

Stiles’ hand moved from Derek’s cheek to the nape of his neck as Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist to gradually bring their bodies closer until they physically couldn’t anymore.

The kiss had Stiles’ head spinning. Where the other kiss was spontaneous and hard and full of eagerness this kiss was planned and achingly gentle and had a depth to it that made it a million times more intimate.

When they eventually pulled away Stiles had to use everything he had to keep a pitiful whine from escaping his throat.

They were both panting softly as they stared into the other’s eyes.

Derek’s pupils were blown wide and his lips were red and puffy. He appeared to be in a daze and Stiles knew he wasn’t much better. That was, just, _wow_.

“I really want to kiss you again.” Stiles confessed in a rush. “I want to kiss you every single day for the rest of my life.”

“Stiles- Stiles do you understand what you’re saying right now?” Derek asked looking panicked and afraid but there was _something_ in those gorgeous hazel eyes that gave Stiles to courage to continue.

“Yes. I know that werewolves have mates and that they mate for life and don’t worry if you ever meet your mate I’ll back off and leave you two alone but I also know that mates are extremely rare and I - _fuck_ \- I really like you Derek and I think… I think what we could have is worth a shot.”

Then Derek’s lips are on him again, hard and clumsy but so damn passionate and Stiles hummed in contentness against Derek’s lips before the werewolf pulled back.

“Yes.”

Stiles blinked. “Yes?”

The smile that plastered itself on Derek’s face was absolutely breathtaking. “Yes.”

Stiles wasn’t exactly sure what ‘yes’ meant but he knew that small 3 letter word had just made Stiles happier than ever before.

Stiles leaned to kiss Derek again when Derek pulled his head back just a little bit in the last second, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh and Stiles?”

“Hmm?”

“I wouldn’t worry about me leaving you for my mate.”

What? What was Derek talking about? Of course he was going to leave Stiles if he ever found his mate! The chances of a werewolf finding their mates were one in a million, Derek couldn’t possibly pass up being with his one and only just to be with Stiles unless…

Stiles looked at Derek in pure awe. “No way.”

Derek’s smirk turned into a full blown smile, bunny teeth on full display. “You’re mine. My mate.”

Stiles takes it back, that yes a few minutes ago was nothing compared to this. _This_ word, this 4 letter word, this is the word that made Stiles happier than ever before in his life and there was no doubt in his mind that there will be moments in the future that surpass even this level of happiness.

He couldn’t fucking wait for them to happen. With Derek to experience it right there with him.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed my little story for you giftee


End file.
